


Regret

by Esperata



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Arguing, Injury, M/M, Peril, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-04-04
Packaged: 2019-04-18 12:50:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Trip and Malcolm's latest argument is interrupted by an emergency.





	Regret

“Just ‘cause you’ve got so much more history don’t mean us Americans are stupid.”

Tucker’s emotional response was countered by a proportionally placid reply.

“I was merely trying to broaden your horizons Commander.”

“You know what ya can do with yer horizons Lieutenant?” Trip leant close. “You can take yer high horse and just ride off over them.”

Malcolm hadn’t flinched. He opened his mouth to calmly retort when an alert interrupted their argument. Tucker straightened up and frowned, meeting Malcolm’s eyes in a final irritated glance before turning away for engineering.

He had no further opportunity to worry over the condescending attitude of the tactical officer. The _Enterprise_ was under attack and various strikes hitting home meant his engineering team were scurrying back and forth, rerouting power, repairing damaged circuits and generally trying to keep everything intact and functioning. Trip himself was entirely focused on maintaining their warp capability and directing his crew where they were most needed. There was no time even to worry who were attacking, or why.

He registered the ship finally jumping to warp instants before he heard the comm.

“ _Trip_.” Archer’s voice sounded distorted but that was a minor issue. “ _Divert all power from the armoury. There’s a cascade-_ ”

“Damn,” Trip cursed as Archer’s voice was cut off but his fingers were already flying over his console. A shockwave rocked the ship suddenly, knocking Trip off balance, and he frantically scanned the screen as he pulled himself upright. A new series of blinking lights indicated only some of the energy had been diverted. There had been enough in the overload to trigger an explosion.

Which if it had happened in the armoury… with all the phase weapons and torpedos…

“Malcolm.”

Trip’s breath caught on the name and he was moving before he’d consciously made a decision.

He could justify it as needing to deal with the structural damage and blown power relays to get their defences back online but that wasn’t what drove him on. No, it was the sheer terror of finding a gaping hole where the armoury had been. Of seeing space where he should be seeing an aggravating Brit.

The rational part of his brain that still operated as Enterprise’s Chief Engineer recognised there wasn’t likely to have been such a structural breach – not without causing far more turbulence to the ship – but the heart sore man that was Trip needed visual reassurance.

He skidded to a stop in the corridor, eyes scanning the scene intently.

Smoke was curling out of the armoury doorway and various crewmen were gathered together outside, some still choking from the fumes. He noted a few medic trained officers with first aids kits and several armoury personnel hauling weaponry further away – an explanation of why the damage was not greater. Malcolm had clearly ordered the explosive devices moved when he realised the threat of the power surge.

But Trip couldn’t see the lieutenant anywhere.

He grabbed at Crewman Kelly.

“Where’s Malcolm?”

She looked slightly stunned and he wondered briefly if she was concussed. However she answered clearly enough.

“He went back in for Rostov.” She gestured helplessly at the doorway which was filling with even more smoke and Trip couldn’t stop himself. He darted in.

The first step and he was coughing before he remembered himself and crouched lower, covering his mouth with his sleeve.

“Malcolm!” he called, coughing again before he clasped his sleeve back to shield his breathing.

An answering cough drew his attention and he saw a dark shape staggering towards him. He pushed further in and the vague outline resolved into two men, one limping as he leant on the smaller for support.

Trip wrapped his own free arm about the injured man and took the weight onto himself as they all manoeuvred into the relative safety of the corridor.

Liz Cutler had arrived with more medical equipment and she immediately began seeing to Rostov who was coughing badly and unable to support his weight on one leg.

Freed from his responsibility to the crewman, Trip turned to his friend.

Malcolm was pale, covered in dirt and visibly fighting for breath. As Tucker watched, he tried to inhale once, twice… and then his eyes rolled back and his body began to fold under him. Trip moved instinctively and just managed to catch the lighter man before he hit the deck.

Without considering the propriety of the situation, Trip hoisted the man more securely into his arms and began the dash to sickbay. Every step of the way he cast worried eyes over the unconscious officer, needing to reassure himself he was still breathing, albeit raggedly. He couldn’t have focused his thoughts on anything other than his need to make sure Malcolm was safe. That he was going to be fine.

Stepping into sickbay brought reality back into focus for Commander Tucker.

Numerous personnel were waiting for attention. Those who had training in field medicine had reported for duty and were moving about administering analgesics and basic aid. It reminded Tucker forcibly that he had a lot of his own repair work ahead of him.

But not before making sure Malcolm was in good hands.

“Doc?”

Phlox turned and headed over immediately on seeing the lieutenant’s condition.

“On the biobed if you please.”

Trip obeyed and then stepped back as the doctor swiftly slipped an oxygen mask over Malcolm’s head and began scanning him.

“Will he be okay?”

Trip knew he should be going. He’d delivered Malcolm – there was nothing else he could do here – but he had to hear the doctor say it.

Phlox frowned at the readings.

“He’s inhaled a very high level of toxic substances.”

It sounded almost accusatory and Trip had to say something in Reed’s defence.

“He went back in for Rostov. The man wouldn’t of got out without help.”

“Ah, Of course.” Phlox’s face smoothed out and he smiled at the Commander. “He’ll need to stay on oxygen for a while, and I’ll have to clean out the noxious substances from his lungs and blood, but he should recover.”

Trip’s shoulders sagged in relief.

“Ye’ll let me know when he’s awake? I’ll want to visit him.”

“Of course Commander. It won’t be for some while I shouldn’t think.”

Trip nodded and gave a final glance to Malcolm.

Suddenly he had to swallow hard and blink back tears. It had been so close, too close, to losing him. And his final words had been so angry. The lieutenant, normally so tough and unimpeachable, looked fragile and vulnerable as he was now.

Trip stepped closer and laid a gentle hand in Malcolm’s hair before leaning down to whisper sincerely.

“I’m sorry Malcolm. Just don’t leave before I can tell you that properly.”

And since he was there, he kissed the pale forehead before drawing back quickly. Then Commander Tucker drew himself back together and determinedly headed out to fix what he could fix.

Trip would fix their friendship later.


End file.
